


Splish Splash

by zinke



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Prompt Fic, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zinke/pseuds/zinke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You <i>do</i> have an umbrella right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splish Splash

**Author's Note:**

> : Ages ago, I put out a call on Twitter for fic prompts in an effort to get myself writing again. sternel asked for: _Castle, valiantly trying to hail Beckett a cab in the rain. And failing._. Given the weather today in NYC, I feel posting this long-overdue fic now is rather appropriate.
> 
> Thanks go, as always to my own personal officer of the adverb police, gabolange.

“So.” Castle edges closer to the building, wincing as the sharp edge of the door handle jabs him in the back. “This is certainly unexpected.”

“Not exactly the word I would use,” Beckett mutters darkly as a sharp crack of thunder splits the air.

Castle pokes his head out to get a better look at the sudden downpour that’s trapped them on the steps of the 12th Precinct. “It’s bad, but an umbrella should keep the worst of it off you. You _do_ have an umbrella right?”

The glare Beckett gives him could peel the paint off a wall.

“So…that’s a no then?”

“Yes. No. I—” She gives a loud huff of frustration. “It’s been a really long day, Castle. I just want to go home, pour myself a glass of wine and have a good, long soak in the tub.”

Castle licks his lips. “Sounds nice. Need someone to scrub your back?”

“No. What I _need_ is an umbrella.” Kate fixes him with a pointed look.

“Don’t look at me,” he says, holding out his hands. “Never a Boy Scout, remember?”

“Great,” she replies sourly.

Castle studies her for a moment, then glances over her shoulder at the traffic speeding down the avenue.

“Castle? What are you doing?” she asks as he shrugs out of his jacket and tents the garment over his head.

“Proving chivalry isn’t dead. Wait here.” And with that he dashes out into the deluge.

“Castle! _Castle_!” With a growl of impatience, Beckett rearranges her own coat and hurries after him.

He spares her only a cursory glance as she comes up to stand beside him at the curb. “Get back inside.”

“You first,” she parries back just as Castle spots an approaching cab. Pushing past her, he frantically waves his hand in the air, then curses loudly as the vehicle speeds by without so much as a flash of its brake lights. “Castle—”

“I’m getting you home,” he insists as another two taxis fly by, ignoring his hail.

“They’re not going to stop Castle. Even for you.”

“Says you.”

“Says anyone who’s ever tried to hail a New York City cab on a Friday night in the middle of a rainstorm. Now can we please go back inside?”

“Go ahead. I’ll call you when I’ve got one for you.”

“Why are you being so stubborn about this?”

“Because it was a bad case. You haven’t slept in days and I know for a fact the bag of pretzels and a Diet Coke you had this morning are the only things you’ve had to eat all day. And you deserve to be home with your wine and your bath and a good book. Maybe even one of mine.” Another taxi whizzes by and, dropping his hand on the top of his head, Castle turns to face her. “Just…let me do this for you. Please.”

The disarmingly earnest expression on his face makes it impossible for Kate to look away – or notice the cab making a beeline across the avenue towards them. By the time she spots it, the vehicle is already skidding to a stop at the curb, its tires sending an arc of filthy water into the air to soak them both.

Still sputtering, Beckett watches as Castle slicks his sopping hair back out of his eyes. Grinning, he reaches for the cab’s door and opens it with a flourish. “My lady; your chariot awaits.”

Tamping down the urge to give voice to the dozen or so acerbic remarks that spring to mind, Beckett accepts the offer of his hand and lets him help her into the waiting vehicle. As soon as she’s settled she feels him begin to pull away. Tightening her grip, she gives his fingers a gentle tug. “C’mon, Castle. Get in.”

He doesn’t wait to be asked twice. Ducking inside, Castle closes the car door behind him before turning to bat his eyelashes at her. “My hero.”

 

*fin.*


End file.
